


How The Fuck Does Fire Exist In The Fucking Ocean

by Kavarion



Category: SpongeBob SquarePants (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, have fun friends, i'm pretty sure this is the worst possible thing i could ever write, oh well, what even is this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 14:17:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9445079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kavarion/pseuds/Kavarion
Summary: Spongebob's life is forever altered when he is witness to the aftermath of Bikini Bottom's destruction, a lone survivor of large-scale devastation through sheer chance. In shock and horrified by the death of almost everyone he loves, the lovable sponge searches for answers and finds them in unexpected places...A snail. A squirrel. A ghost pirate. What will these three things mean for Spongebob? Only time will tell...





	

**Author's Note:**

> Fuck my fucking ass I can't believe I've started this shit bye  
> Have fun losers

Spongebob stared at the wasteland before him, disbelief paralysing him. He didn't even recognise that he had fallen to his knees until he felt the sharp pain of shell shards digging into his shins, piercing the numbing shock he had been sent into to protect his fragile mind. Bikini Bottom. His home, a land of fun and mayhem, destroyed. Flames, impossibly intact despite the crushing weight of the ocean, stretched toward that miles above surface. They licked at the feet of buildings that once held the town's inhabitants, the hellish lapdogs of ruin: staring at them dried Spongebob's eyes, burning away the tears that had begun to stream down the sponge's porous face. 

It seemed like years before Spongebob found the inner strength to push himself off the ground, determination to discover the fate of his friends flooding his system and burning away the fear within. Realising the comparison of that strength to flames he had subconsciously made, Spongebob shuddered, and made his way down the sandy hill he had collapsed on in his grief and dismay to go towards the centre of his beloved town.

Death. In every direction, all he saw was death. The bodies of once companions, strewn across the ground before the buildings that had made Bikini Bottom such a great place: now they stood empty and decrepit, husks devoid of the life that had once brought Spongebob joy. Despite his old familiarity, he couldn't place the names of every lifeless body he saw. There were some, though, that he recognised as he made his way through the wreckage. The deflated corpse of Ms. Puff, her spiny skin ravaged by bleeding claw marks, at the entrance gate of her famed driving school. A broken clarinet, one half driven through the neck of a grey crustacean with limited talent; now, Squidward would no longer be able to hopelessly chase his dreams. The thought brought a stream of tears to his eyes, and he wiped them away with the sleeve of his work shirt. Heaving a rock up from how it rested in the sandy seafloor showed the body of Patrick, his beautiful best friend, riddled with jagged holes that showed pink flesh which should have never been exposed. His eyes, normally so clueless, had lost the bare remnant of intelligence that had lay beyond them. He truly did not have a clue now.  
"Dahahahhahahah!", Spongebob laughed through the sobs his best friend's death brought on. It was this mix of morbid laughter and despairing cries that had the sponge hunched over, until his stomach could not take it and he heaved up the contents of his breakfast.

But it was the Krusty Krab that truly brought horror to his reality.

The first thing he saw was the sign. Purple clam shell halves lay separate on the ground, the wooden pole they had been perched atop charred and twisted. Smoke wafted away from this small marker of carnage, mingling with the larger, ominous cloud of grey-black smog streaming away from the remains of the Krusty Krab. And remains it was; barely any noticeable features of the proud establishment were visible, concealed by the cloak of malformation. Strong timber, left blackened and lumpen. The sequence of flags hung at the entrance, cinders crackling quietly as the last sparks puttered out - a mournful symphony, or triumphant chatter, Spongebob was unable to tell. Shards of glass were easily seen amongst the black wood, soot darkening their reflective edges and dimming the light they would otherwise have shone back at the world. The only thing that glistened in this wasteland was his tears, the third wave of sorrow.

He found Mr. Krabs as a smoked out shell, body twisted in impossible angles for such a hard, chitinous armour, beneath overturned tables as burnt as the Krusty Krab's exterior. Flames pawed at soft, lumpy flesh that looked nearly as bad as Squidward's attempts at cooking a decent Krabby Patty. His laughter filled the quiet, breaking through the morose curtain that had been hanging over the impromptu graveyard. Other bodies were in plain sight around the Krusty Krab, but Spongebob paid them no attention. They really weren't actually bodies anymore, if he thought on it. Only pillars of dark ash, remnants of a better time immortalised in a way none of them had ever expected to be. Looking around, taking in the scene before him one more time, Spongebob thought on where he could go from here. Nearly everyone he had ever paid any mind to was dead and gone by what he had seen. Gary had fled from his pineapple of a home two days before this - as if he had held the sense to escape before God's wroth came down upon Bikini Bottom while the town's other members were blissfully unaware of their fates - and Plankton's infamous Chum Bucket was somehow worse off than the Krusty Krab, a barely discernible shape in a torrential inferno. It hit him in a flash, the realisation of who he had nearly forgotten. Sandy!

Spongebob was at his favourite squirrel's bubble home in a flash, a blur of motion in a world of fire. Nothing had changed on his way to here, destruction as far as the eye could see, but Sandy's home seemed to be strangely untouched. The last few fires were at least half a mile out from her place... strange. But Spongebob cleared the growing webs of suspicion filling his mind, unwilling to place doubt on the actions of one of his best friends - especially if there was a chance she was still alive, when all others seemed to have left the land (read: ocean) of the living. So he stood before the ship-wheel-door of Sandy's home, and prepared to enter a place that may finally give him answers as to what happened in Bikini Bottom after long hours of creeping confusion.

**Author's Note:**

> It's probs gonna be weekly updates bois I got procrastinating to do and I actually have a plot for this shit that I need to sort out LOL


End file.
